Where These Dreams Go
by Ice Princess3
Summary: * Paris POV on Tristan and Rory sorry for the confusion* She has known him forever---watched him and wanted him. Now it's time to say goodbye.


Disclaimer: I've wished on stars, lucky pennies, rabbit appendages and so on. But I still do not own Gilmore Girls. I also do not own the song "Acoustic #3" by the Goo Goo Dolls. 

A/N: That's right it's time for another angsty song fic. Thanks to Joelle for the permission and encouragement. As I write this, the clock reads 4:02 AM, so I'm honestly not sure how good it is. It ended up in a completely different place then when I first began it. So I am pleading for feedback on this one. Let me know what you think, it matters to me a lot. Thanks! 

Where These Dreams Go

          She thinks she knows, who you are. But she can't, she's on the outside looking in. Her cookie cutter world with its fairy-tale characters, she doesn't have a clue about where you come from. Where we come from. This glamorous world of high society, can you hear the sarcasm in my voice? It's all about secrets and lies. We learn from our parents, the lies that drip effortlessly from their lips will eventually become our own. We are taught by the best. You hide your weaknesses, conceal those flaws, smile pretty, and play the game. Cause that's all you know how to do. All that you're expected to do.

They painted up your secrets 

_With the lies they told to you._

_And the least they ever gave you_

_Was the most you ever knew. _

          She changed the game. Maybe that's why I hated her. She made you want to change, be a better man and all that crap. What started out as a conquest almost changed to a conversion. I watched, as she slowly became this ideal to you. How very Great Gatsbyof you to center all your hopes and dreams on one woman. Didn't you read the end of that book? Not a happily ever after, dear. 

And I wonder where these dreams go 

_When the world gets in your way._

_What's the point in all this screaming?_

_No one's listening anyway. _

          You never talk about what goes on at home. None of us do, not really. We gloss over it with the cynicism of someone twice our age. The alcoholism and affairs, the plastic surgery and divorces settlements, the complete and utter misery of knowing that deep down money can't buy happiness. Money is abundant in our social circles, but happiness is scarce.

Your voice is small and fading 

_And you hide in here unknown._

_And your mother loves your father _

_Cause she's got nowhere to go._

          And if we're being completely honest here, this is my greatest fear. Turning into your mother, or my mother. Being a 45 year old former beauty queen with a degree from Vassar that gathers dust while deluding herself that she can recapture her youth and maybe her husband by banging the pool boy which all ends in an ugly divorce and a daughter forgotten. Or the despair of the Valium popping wife who drugs herself daily to forget that her high school sweetheart, graduate of Princeton, well-respected businessman husband, who she still loves, beats her. Beats her while her son watches motionless under the table. But she tells her son pretty lies and pops another pill to take her away from reality. Isn't that right?

And she wonders where these dreams go 

_Cause the world got in her way._

_What's the point in ever trying?_

_Nothing's changing anyway._

          We grew up and grew apart. I blame it on hormones. We turned thirteen and suddenly you had an entourage of girls wanting you. You thrive on the attention. I guess I can't blame you, we all do things or in your case, people, for attention. You drifted away. Became one of them. I couldn't save you from yourself, but I wanted to. That's what hurts, more than you leaving. 

_They press their lips against you,_

_And you love the lies they say._

_And I tried so hard to reach you,_

_But you're falling anyway._

          I watch as you self-destructed. Was it over her? Or was she just the catalyst? You thought she was going to be your savior, didn't you? Protect you from this cold harsh world. Take you away from it all? Be the light in the darkness, and all those clichés. To understand you. She didn't understand you. She couldn't understand you. She couldn't save you. But I could have, if you had let me. But you never heard me. And once again I watch you watch her. Your wistful eyes and trademark smirk as you say a final goodbye to her before your stint at military school. You didn't even see me waiting in the wings. But then again you never did…

And you know I see right through you  
Cause the world gets in your way.  
What's the point in all this screaming?  
You're not listening anyway.

Goodbye Tristan.


End file.
